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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25991464">Tipping Point</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagar/pseuds/Hagar'>Hagar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>12th Century, Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Merlin Is a Ruthless Bastard, Original Timeline (Tales of Arcadia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:46:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25991464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagar/pseuds/Hagar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How Morgana came to be the Arcane Order’s champion, in the original timeline.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Morgana &amp; Nari (Tales of Arcadia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tipping Point</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Love and gratitude to sapphire2309, who beta'ed.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If setting free the trolls, goblins and gnomes from her brother’s dungeon before he could slaughter them all and helping them escape to the Wild Wood even as the first rays of dawn touched Camelot’s walls was Morgana’s proudest moment - prouder, even, than creating her first changeling, because never before had she stood up to her brother - then at dusk she found herself at her lowest: prowling the Wood with her brother and his knights, her sword at her side.</p><p>She’d only just set these people free from their unjust captivity. How could she now turn around and kill them? Then again, what was her alternative - face off against her brother, with her once-mentor on his side? For Morgana had no doubt: Merlin would side with Arthur, and against the two of them together, she just might lose.</p><p>They marched quietly through the trees; or, at least, as quietly as their armoured company could: they stepped softly and spoke with hand signals alone, but in the quiet Wood - and oh, how quiet was the Wood, not even a bird twittering - every snapped twig rang out like an explosion.</p><p>Suddenly, Arthur raised his hand, ordering them all to stop: Lancelot had knelt down to examine troll tracks. </p><p>They’d found them. Morgana’s heart beat loudly in her throat.</p><p>“Fresh,” Lancelot announced. “They must be close.”</p><p>“Fan out,” Arthur ordered.</p><p>They did.</p><p>They were deep in the Wood, and the trees grew much closer together here than they did at its edges. Within just a few moments, Morgana could see no-one of their company; she could barely hear them. It occurred to her, then, that she could run: make her way to the Killahead bridge and cross it, align herself with other majicks rather than with Camelot.</p><p>But did she truly want to fight alongside Gunmar? She knew his methods: Gunmar was as ruthless as her brother, if not moreso. His was poor company in which to mend her tattered heart. All she’d achieve, if she’d aligned with him, was to trade one tyrant for another. No, she couldn’t bring herself to ally herself with the Gum-Gum king.</p><p>She had another option: the troll settlement rumored to still exist in the Wood, refusing to bow to either king. Morgana could flee there.</p><p>“Or you could come with us.”</p><p>Morgana spun around, staff at the ready.</p><p>The speaker was, clearly, a majick - and, just as clearly, not a troll: she was child-sized and green as the leaves that surrounded her. She was, also, familiar.</p><p>“I know you,” Morgana said. She knelt so that she could be at eye-level with her. “I remember you. You’d played with Gwen and me, when we were little. Arthur didn’t like you even then,” she added, sadly.</p><p>The majick nodded solemnly. “I am Nari, of the Eternal Forest.”</p><p>“And I’m Morgana, unfortunately of Camelot,” Morgana replied. Nari seemed to already know that but nevertheless, a formal introduction was the polite thing to do.</p><p>“You can’t trust Merlin,” Nari said. “He will betray you.”</p><p>“More than he already has?”</p><p>Nari nodded. “But you could come with us.”</p><p>“Who are you, Nari of the Eternal Forest? Who do you stand with?”</p><p>“We were old when the stars were young; and we’ve watched over majicks for all of that time.” </p><p>Crushed branches and human yelling cut through the air, followed closely by Arthur’s voice, which cried: “Morgana!”</p><p>“Arthur!” Morgana was on her feet before she could think better of it.</p><p>Nari was already gone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>That night, Morgana let herself into Merlin’s library. She had her own, but some books-- some books, Merlin was so wary of that he let no one near them, not even her.</p><p>Perhaps <em>especially</em> not her.</p><p>She’d reclaimed the ones that dealt with Shadowmancy; the old man had no ground to stand on, keeping those books from her. But there were others, others she’d never come close to - so desperate she was to prove, to both Merlin and her brother, that her Shadowmancy did not make her untrustworthy, did not make her “dark”. But now it seemed as though all her efforts were in vain; her brother had threatened her life, and Merlin - oh, he seemed to trust her even less than he did that boy he’d fished out of the gutter. And so, Morgana gathered all the books she’d never so much as touched before, and started methodically going through them.</p><p>She learned a great many terrible things that night, none of which were any use to her. All of those things were dark and gruesome, and Merlin was right to keep the knowledge of them locked away. </p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>Morgana snapped her head up, and saw Merlin. Her magic was no longer the only light in the room: it was dawn, and pink-golden light was streaming in through the stained glass windows. She hadn’t even noticed; so absorbed she’d been in what she was reading.</p><p>Merlin approached her.</p><p>Perhaps she was merely tired; perhaps she was tired of hiding. Either way, she’d left the book open and made no attempt to push it away.</p><p>Merlin glanced down at the page, then it was his turn to snap his head as he looked back at her. “The Arcane Order?” he demanded, sounding genuinely shocked. “Theirs is the darkest of all magic, Morgana!”</p><p>“Don’t you mean, the oldest of all magic?” she retorted. “They are our protectors!”</p><p>“Oh, they’ve never counted wizards as majicks; we’ve always had to fend for ourselves, unwanted both here and there. I’m telling you, Morgana--”</p><p>“Don’t you lie to me anymore! I <em>met</em> Nari; there is nothing dark about her.”</p><p>“You were a child--”</p><p>“You <em>knew?</em> You knew all this time?”</p><p>It was a moment before Merlin said, in a different tone of voice: “You met her again, didn’t you. More recently than several decades ago. What did she say? What did she want? You can’t trust--”</p><p>“Funny thing. That’s exactly what she told me about <em>you.</em>” She turned on her heels and marched out - or tried to: she was almost by the door when a speck of green magic flew over her shoulder and bolted it.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Morgana.”</p><p>When she turned around, he had his sword in his hands along with his staff.</p><p>“I thought I could make you see reason, but if you’d rather trust those demons--”</p><p>“How dare you--”</p><p>“--then you leave me no other choice.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She fled to the forest, the bandaged stump of her left hand cradled close to her chest. She fled all the way to Killahead and beyond, before magic shone out and called to her from between the bushes.</p><p>“Your hand,” Nari said, sounding horrified. She reached out and Morgana held out her arm for the Arcane to inspect.</p><p>“You warned me,” Morgana said, very tiredly.</p><p>There was no reproach in either Nari’s voice or eyes as she said: “That doesn’t mean you deserved this.” She twirled her hand and forest-green magic floated through the air and attached itself to Morgana’s wrist, healing the wound and forming into a new hand.</p><p>When the pain faded, Morgana looked up at Nari’s companions. One was only a little taller than Nari; the other was much taller. Both were thin and nimble, and wore headdresses of ancient skulls. It occurred to Morgana that most would find them frightening, but having been so betrayed by the two living people who she loved most in the world - the ones left, now that Guinevere was dead - Morgana found the Arcanes’ presence comforting.</p><p>After all, they felt like magic.</p><p>“Nari is very generous,” the tall one said. They had extra eyes stitched into their dress at their shoulders.</p><p>“She was the one who wanted to warn you,” said the one not much taller than Nari.</p><p>A tingle ran down Morgana’s spine. Nari was the one who had wanted to reach out to her, but all three members of the Arcane Order were there in front of Morgana. Clearly, something had come to pass, something that--</p><p>Morgana bowed her head, and said: “I apologize for not having listened. Please forgive me. I place myself under your protection.”</p><p>She waited.</p><p>Eventually, a too-hot hand touched her chin and tipped it back up. Morgana opened her eyes, and saw the tall one with eyes for epaulettes. “You are human,” they said.</p><p>“I am majick,” she replied. It was easy, so blessedly easy, to say that; so much more than the words she’d used - just that morning! - to appease her brother and his lapdog, who’d once been her teacher. “I have always been. There is nothing for me in the human world, I know that now. Here is where I belong. Please…”</p><p>The tall Arcane stepped back, and glanced at their companions. One nodded; Nari rolled her eyes, as if she found Bellroc’s silent question completely unnecessary.</p><p>“We accept your allegiance,” the tall one said. “I am Bellroc, Keeper of the Flame.”</p><p>“And I am Skrael, of the North Wind.”</p><p>“And you,” Bellroc spoke again, “will no longer be known as Morgana, sister to Arthur Pendragon. You will be the Eldritch Queen, Mother of Monsters; our champion.”</p><p>Morgana’s mouth was dry, but it was too late to turn back. Besides, this, here-- wasn’t this what she’d always yearned for? Magic deep and ancient and pure? She’d felt Nari’s magic - the touch of it had eased the pain that Morgana carried not just in the stump of her hand, but in her very heart and soul.</p><p>Looking Bellroc, Keeper of the Flame, straight in the eye, Morgana stated: “I accept.”</p><p>Bellroc stepped back in line with the other Arcanes and lifted their hand. Skrael and Nari did so as well. And from the three of them, magic flowed into her, pure magic, older than the bones of the earth. Morgana closed her eyes and let it overtake her.</p><p>Finally, she was home.</p>
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